


Say My Name

by NightDoktor



Category: The Maze Runner (Movies), The Maze Runner Series - All Media Types, The Maze Runner Series - James Dashner
Genre: Aris is a pure bean, F/M, Leon is a trained sniper, M/M, Mix of Books and movies, OC's name is Leon, Programmed subroutines, Thomas is a hacker
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2018-07-11
Updated: 2018-07-25
Packaged: 2019-06-08 22:40:06
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings, Graphic Depictions Of Violence
Chapters: 2
Words: 3,561
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/15253614
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/NightDoktor/pseuds/NightDoktor
Summary: Thomas is not only a capable assistant working with W.C.K.D. in the Maze Trials, he's also a very accomplished programmer, having written a lot of code that runs the Maze's internals, making it truly autonomous once a certain stage is reached.Before he leaks information to the Right Arm, he spends weeks planting subroutines within the Maze's code, that trigger when called by certain events.Knowing that the bond he and Newt shared before the blond had his memories sealed was strong, the first trigger was to hear "Tommy."The second was to say "Run."Begins with a short prologue chapter.





	1. Prologue

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Prologue

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Hey everyone! I know I'm a hoe for starting stories and not updating them, but I'm trying to work on that!
> 
> I rewatched the first film again today and I had an idea of Thomas planning a little further ahead, and what sort of ramifications it could have had on the story.   
> Put in some pre-movie Newtmas and BOOM! Here we are.
> 
> Un-beta'd as usual, so if you notice anything please tell me!

He clutched the floor of a steel cage as it steadily accelerated upwards, heart pounding as his head swung back and forth, noting the boxes, barrels and the loud grunts of livestock being sent up with him.  
The fluorescent strobe of the lights mounted on the sides of the shaft did little to ease his rising panic, and the matching bile at the back of his throat.

The boy knew nothing. What was around him, where he was, who he was, or even his own name. The more he realised he didn’t know, the more he began to hyperventilate in addition to everything else.  
“ANYONE?! HELP ME! HELLO?!” He roared, until his throat grew sore and voice hoarse, barely a whisper.

After what seemed an eternity, the box slowed, and crawled to a halt. Thuds could be heard from above, followed by the whine of metal on metal.  
Light flooded the box, and the boy scrunched his eyes and recoiled. As the pain receded, and his vision restored, a well-built boy around his age with short cropped hair and remarkably odd eyebrows had landed in front of him.  
“Day one, Greenie. Rise and shine.” With those words, he was hoisted out of the box, and thrown into the dirt.  
Head spinning, eyes flickering from face to face in the crowd of boys surrounding him, jeering, cheering and all in between, the boy felt sick, angry and the need to just escape.

Bolting through the weakest section of the crowd, he made it a couple hundred metres before tripping on a grass root and falling flat on his face, the impact jarring the world around him to a halt.  
In the ringing silence, a prevailing thought burned red hot through his mind.  
_Thomas_.

Shortly after, several sets of hands grabbed him and threw him into a stone walled holding cell, and a metal grille slammed shut.  
“Until you calm down.” A boy gruffly said, before stalking off.  
Thomas took the next few moments to breathe and settle his nerves, with little success. He peered through the bars of his prison, and noted several concrete structures, with twice as many crudely made wooden ones, farming areas, and animal pens. So it seemed everything was mostly self-sufficient, but what were the items that came up in the box with him?

His thoughts were cut short when one of the boys from the crowd stomped in front of the cell and squatted down to eye level.  
“You feelin’ okay there Greenie?”  
At Thomas’ shrug, the dark skinned boy smiled and opened the grille.  
“My name’s Alby. Do you remember anything about yourself? Who you are, where you came from?”  
Thomas scrunched his eyes, racking his mind for anything.  
“All I remember is my name, it’s Thomas. That’s it. Just… nothing.”  
Alby’s features softened, and he sighed. “It’s normal, we all end up with no memories out of the box. It’s early to remember your name though. That nice fall on your face help with that?” Alby asked, with a hint of a smirk.  
Thomas groaned, burying his face in his hands.  
“Please don’t remind me,” he muttered, voice muffled by his hands. Looking up, he gestured around. “What is this place?”

Alby laughed openly at Thomas’ sheepishness, then extended a hand into the cell.  
“Come on, I’ll show you.”

Moments later, the two walked through what Alby had called ‘The Glade’.  
“We eat here. We sleep here. We grow our own food. We build our own shelter. Whatever we need, the Box provides. The rest is up to us.” Alby explained, gesturing over to the raised platform that the closed panels of the box sat.  
“The Box?” Thomas asked, eyebrows furrowing.  
“Yeah. It's sent up once a month with fresh supplies and a new Greenie. This month that's you. Congratulations.” Alby replied, mouth tugging into a grin.  
“Sent up? By who, though? Who put us here?” Thomas badgered, tone rising with each question.  
“That, we don't know.” Alby looked down, kicking a rock with his boot.

Thomas perked up at the sound of someone jogging up to them. A slender, tall blonde boy made his way over, genial smile managing to light up dark eyes.  
He paused a moment to sweep some blonde hair out of his eyes, and smiled at Alby.  
“Hey, are you all right, Alby?” Thomas nearly face-faulted at the British accent, knees weak.  
“A- ha! Green Bean meet Newt. When I'm not around, he's in charge.” Alby explained.  
Thomas froze for a moment, staring at the blonde. His mind was screaming.  
“Well, it's a good thing you're always around then.” Newt retorted, then glanced at Thomas with a sly grin.  
“That was some dash you made earlier. For a second, I thought you had the chops to be a runner… ‘till you face-planted. That was great. Say, I didn’t catch your name. You remember it yet?”  
Thomas’ face bloomed red at the jab, but chuckled regardless.  
“Yeah, actually, that face-plant that you mentioned jogged my memory. My name’s Thomas.”  
Newt smiled again and clapped him on the shoulder.  
“Well, it’s nice to meet you, Tommy.”

**SUBROUTINE: RESTORE [ACTIVATING]  
RESTORING SUBJECT A2.**

Thomas’ mind blanked, as the code he’d written weeks earlier began to take effect; the biological implant in his head activating and reversing the effects of the Swipe, releasing his memories.  
As the mental strain became too much, his eyes rolled, and he collapsed.


	2. Subject A2: Restored

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Newt regains his memories, and together with Thomas and Alby, prepare to face the Gladers.
> 
> Gratuitous use of 'bloody' and 'buggin'.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Hey guys it's me! I'm back with the next chapter of Say My Name. Sorry it's a short one, until I get things moving properly in my head it might remain so.
> 
> I'm going to start changing things pretty heavily as much as I can to suit my narrative, including saving as many characters as I can. Some will need to fulfill their roles later, others will not. 
> 
> If you're keen on keeping up with my ramblings, follow me on Twitter! twitter.com/NightDoktor
> 
> Unbeta'd as usual, so if you notice anything wrong, please let me know!

“Tommy!” Newt cried out, barely catching the boy in time.  
“Alby! He collapsed!”

The two carried the newly named Thomas back to the med-jack hut, ensuring he was watched while unconscious. Once the orders were given, the leader and second in command left a very confused Clint and Jeff behind.  
“What on earth do you think happened?” Newt pulled a stray piece of grass from his hair absentmindedly.  
Alby had a faraway look in his eyes, staring at the Maze.  
“I’m not sure. I noticed him freeze up a little when you said your name, but otherwise I’ve got nothing.”

Newt reached the Homestead and paused.   
“I’ll go sit with him and wait. It didn’t seem anything serious so perhaps he’ll wake up soon. He might be able to tell us what happened.”  
Alby nodded, and clapped a hand onto his seconder’s shoulder.   
“Let me know if you need anything. I’ll be around.”  
“Thanks Alby.” Newt nodded and set off towards the med-jack hut which held Thomas. The one he felt an inexplicable pull to. _He’d have to have answers. What scares me the most is how worried I am for him. My reflex to catch him was beyond normal care._

He passed Clint with a brief nod, and entered the room containing Tommy. The boy in question seemed physically at peace, save for the slightly pursed lips and furrowed brow.  
Newt sighed, pulled up a chair and began his vigil.

Thomas’ mind burned. Amongst a sea of agony, his conscious was a ship. Tossed, hurled, breached wave after wave, memory after memory.  
An entire 17 years of memories, and his mind had to acclimate to having them available again. But still he persisted. The more he relaxed and let the memories orient themselves once more, the faster the flow.  
He remembered being shown into a room with a bunch of other children his age one day, when he was eight. He was forced to introduce himself as Thomas, even though his heart screamed his name was wrong.  
He remembered finding Newt, happily perched on a bean bag in the corner, content with reading on his own.  
He remembered meeting the boy’s eyes for the first time, finding so much spirit and fire in those dark eyes.  
He remembered being inseparable from the boy from that day, and realising one day when they were fourteen that he loved him.  
He remembered kissing Newt, and feeling like the world was okay again, even for just those precious moments when their lips met.  
He remembered holding Newt close to him like he was the only thing left in the world that was precious.  
He remembered the day that Newt was taken from him. The day he decided that WCKD was in fact, the complete opposite to good.  
He remembered planting subroutines in the Maze’s code, over months as to avoid detection. Subroutines to restore his memory and others’, and ones to manually override Grievers for a short time.  
He remembered contacting Mary, and giving away the location to every lab, trial and installation.  
He remembered being taken, and the Swipe.

Newt.

Thomas gasped in air, and lurched, sitting bolt upright, chest heaving, and eyes blown wide.  
“Newt.” He croaked, and almost slapped away the hand that offered him a glass of water.  
Gulping it like a man starved of air, Thomas gasped and wiped his mouth.

“Newt, I’m going to do something that you won’t understand, not just yet. As drastic as this sounds, I need you to trust me,” Thomas grabbed Newt’s hands and held them so gingerly that Newt couldn’t breathe.

He stared into the honey brown of the boy that had so easily captured his heart, he realised way too late.  
He wanted to find out why his heart yearned for Thomas.  
“Okay.”  
That one word sealed his fate; Thomas acting with a hurried urgency that was only betrayed through his still rapid breathing, frantic eyes and shaking movements that rearranged Newt onto the medical bed, and held both hands once more.

“Run.”

 

**SUBROUTINE: RESTORE [ACTIVATING]  
RESTORING SUBJECT A5.**

 

Newt gasped, and immediately drowned in the influx of memories as the implant in his skull reversed the effects of the Swipe.  
Eyes rolling back, Newt fell unconscious. Thomas took a breath and smoothed the hair back from the slender boy’s face, and sat back, taking vigil.

Moments later, Alby burst in, and took in the scene before him. Eyes wide, he crossed the space in seconds, grabbing Thomas by the shirt.  
“What did you do to him?!” Alby demanded, spittle flying.  
Thomas’ eyes slowly slid over to meet Alby’s enraged face.  
“When I collapsed, it was because I’d programmed the chip in the back of my head to reverse the Swipe, restoring my memories. I’d planted the same block of code for Newt, as well. I didn’t have time for any others.”  
Alby let go and stepped back.  
“What?! You programmed it?”  
Thomas slumped back into the chair.   
“I made this place. Well, I helped. I programmed the Maze. The rearrangement of its walls, the Grievers, even the movement of the fake Sun and the weather. When Newt was taken away from me, they made me create this. I hid blocks of code that would restore my memories when Newt called me ‘Tommy’, but I didn’t expect it to happen so soon. I just activated the paired subroutine that would unlock Newt’s memories.” Thomas explained, attention directed towards the blonde as he whimpered.  
“Okay hang on. Why should I trust you?” Alby buried his face in his hands. “This is nonsense!”

“No, it’s the truth. I remember now. Tommy, you bloody genius.” Newt murmured, slowly sitting upright.  
“Whoa, Newt, you shouldn’t be moving so much! Take it easy.” Thomas flew to Newt’s side in an instant, where the blond grabbed Thomas in a tight embrace.  
“I remember us. I remember you. And I hate them for taking you away from me.” Newt cried into Thomas’ shoulder, who slid onto the bed beside his love and held him close, not minding the building wetness through his shirt.  
“Okay, this is some next level klunk. What’s going on Newt?” Alby weakly asked.  
Newt pulled away, having the decency to look sheepish for forgetting about Alby being in the room with them.   
“Before the Maze, Tommy was everything I had. We were… together.” Newt fumbled, trying to explain through the rising blush on his cheeks.

“Right.” Alby fixed them both with a sceptical glare. “And what exactly have you remembered?”  
Thomas stood, and glanced at Newt, who squeezed his hand in support.  
“Before I can say anything,” Thomas murmured, taking a quick look around, “no beetle blades. Odd.”  
“Tommy!” Newt pointed at the corner of the bed, where a sleek metallic insect resembling a beetle sat, observing everything with it’s tiny red camera.  
Thomas moved over to the bug, and hissed “Cease.”  
The beetle blade immediately shut down, camera light fading and lowering itself as it powered off.

Thomas turned to Alby.   
“We don’t have much time now. That command shuts down a beetle blade and dumps the last 5 minutes out of it’s memory, but they’ll know someone triggered it. I remember everything, how I made the Maze, the failsafe measures I coded in, everything.  
Here’s the plan. I don’t know how I’m going to get you to trust me, but tomorrow the Box will come up again. Inside it will be a girl, Teresa. She’s going to trigger a routine I coded in that will shut off the artificial sun and leave the Maze doors open of a night. You can guess what will happen then.” Thomas explained, pacing the room agitatedly.   
Alby froze. “The Grievers…”  
“Exactly. Which is why we need to make Tommy a runner as soon as possible, so he can get the Maze ready for us to escape. Tomorrow.” Newt stood, gesturing at Thomas.

Alby stepped back, shaking his head in disbelief.   
“No, the Gladers won’t listen to that. They’ll panic. We can’t go back to those days Newt!”

“We don’t have to. We send me and Minho into the Maze, we find ‘the way out’. We just have to dissect a Griever first-”  
“YOU WHAT?!” Newt rounded on Thomas instantly, grabbing at the hapless boy by his shirt.  
“If you think for one buggin’ minute I’m going to let you back into that shucking Maze just so you can tripsy on in and slice and dice a Griever, you’re bonkers mate!”  
Thomas brought his hands up slowly and placed them on Newt’s hands softly.  
“Newt, I planted a few memories of mine in there while I was going. Try look at them; they’ll feel super foreign.”  
Newt’s eyes glazed over as he turned his focus inwards with practiced ease. Thomas then gently pried Newt’s hands from his shirt and held them instead.  
When Newt came to, he deadpan stared at Thomas before smacking him over the back of the head.   
“You bloody idiot Tommy! That’s buggin’ dangerous, you stupid git!”

Alby cleared his throat. “I’ll just pretend I know what’s going on. So, what’s going on?”  
“If I get near a Griever, I can shut it down long enough for us to remove the Key from it’s left foreleg and get the hell out. I can only do it once because they’ll suspect it afterwards. Wait.”

Thomas scrambled over to the still suspended Beetle Blade and squinted at the camera, before he did what Newt then yelled not to; poked it.  
The three waited in tense silence, bated breath on the device in front of them.  
After several moments, the Beetle Blade fell limp.  
Thomas stepped back, eyes blown wide. “Oh, no.”  
Newt pulled Thomas to his feet and began shaking his arm, face contorted with worry.  
“Tommy? What’s wrong? Why is that Beetle Blade dead?”

Thomas sat back down, still in shock.  
“They’ve left the facility controlling the Maze already. In the morning, the Box will be sent up with Teresa in it, and the Ending will begin.”  
His gaze grew steely and with a glint of madness as he glanced at Newt. “That also means they’re not on hand to directly control the Maze. They can monitor us at will, but the Mazes are set up as to prevent any outside controls to prevent interference in the Trials.”  
Newt’s eyes widened as he caught on. “So, you can disable the Grievers permanently?”  
Thomas shook his head. “No, that would’ve been too obvious to the teams supervising my work. I could only slip in a few blocks of code, remember? What I did do, however was create a scenario where the Griever would be suspended but could be reactivated if the scenario is broken. Once that’s done however, we can use the Suspension subroutine again.”

Newt sat on the bed next to Tommy, grabbing his hand and intertwining their fingers.  
“Talk to me Tommy. How do we do this?”  
Thomas took a deep breath, held it, then released it. “We have to have the Griever attempt to sting you, as you say ‘Stinger Check’. The code I wrote won’t let the Griever use its Stinger while the check is ongoing, but the Stinger Check code can’t commence while the Stinger is in use.”

Newt let out a whistle. “You’re one crazy shank, you know that Tommy?”  
“My words exactly. How on earth are we going to get this to work?” Alby asked, walking around to face the two.  
“We’d have to tell everyone. Now that WCKD isn’t able to control the Maze anymore, it’s on its own. If we knew nothing of the code, we could do anything and the Maze would do exactly as it’s programmed to do. We can use this to our advantage. Get the Gladers together, let them know what we have to do, and how we’re going to do it. Once Teresa comes up, we take her and we escape. We don’t have time to wait for her to wake up.”

“Alby, I need you to believe me. I trust Tommy with my everything. This is our best, and only way out. Stop the Runners from going into the Maze tomorrow, we need everyone here.” Newt stood and grasped Alby’s broad shoulders.  
“We’re going to need you now, Alby. I’ve watched you become a brilliant leader. Now it’s time to put all you’ve shown to the test.” Thomas stood, rolling his shoulders.   
Alby looked up, a fire in his eyes. “Let’s go.”

\---

Alby and Newt then parted ways, with Thomas remaining in the med-jack hut to regain his composure.  
Alby went one way, Newt the other, instructing all Gladers they came across to meet in the middle of the Glade.  
Half an hour later, Chuck burst through the door of the room Thomas was currently in.  
“Hey, Thomas. Newt said to come get you. There’s some big gathering!” The small boy was excited and jumpy, obviously having never seen anything like this.

Thomas smiled, and ruffled the boy’s curls before walking past him.  
“Well let’s not leave him waiting hey?”  
“Yeah, Newt’s got a bad temper.” Chuck replied, running ahead of Thomas who was having trouble suppressing his guffaws.  
He made it to where Alby and Newt stood before the fifty or so Gladers that were milling about, starting to get impatient and confused.

Alby stepped forward and silenced the group with a single yell.  
“That’s enough!” His voice reverberated through the Glade, and all of the boys fell silent.  
“Thank you. I want you all to remain silent, no matter what I’m about to tell you. It’s crucial you let me explain everything before you run off half-cocked into danger.” Alby turned and paced a few times, collecting his thoughts and ordering them.

“Today, the Greenie came up in the Box. But he is no ordinary Greenie,” Alby started, catching every Glader’s eye at least once. He explained Thomas’ role in the creation of the Maze, how he released the Swipe on his memories and how he had revealed the plan to leave the Maze forever.

“That brings us to the difficult portion of what we’re going to do. When the Griever goes to sting you, you must clearly say ‘Stinger Check’ to the Griever, which will then effectively be suspended and will not harm you if you don’t move. I don’t remember the bullshit that Thomas explained, but this is our best shot at staying alive until the Greenie gets in and shuts down the Maze.” Alby concluded, turning to Thomas.   
“Your turn.”

Thomas gulped, and walked up to the Gladers.  
“In the months after Newt was taken from me, I contacted a military organisation in direct conflict with WCKD with information on every base, testing site, Maze and Trial. I then spent a great deal of time hiding code within the Maze that would facilitate the return of my memories, and a way to get you all out. I did this. I watched as you were sent up here, and I watched kids I grew up with die. I didn’t have a choice, but it doesn’t make any of it less wrong. I’m here to right that wrong now and get us all out. I need every single one of you to make this work.”

Newt then walked up and stood in front of Thomas.  
“Okay you shanks. That’s the wrap of it, best get some sleep for tomorrow. As soon as the girl is awake, we load her onto a stretcher and we get out of here. You know the plan. The Creators aren’t here to care anymore, so we’re taking the fight into our own hands. Scram!” Newt flicked his hands, making a shooing gesture to the boys closest to him.  
Moving quickly as to avoid the blonde boy’s wrath, the Gladers scattered and found their hammocks as the last light of the day left them, never to shine again.


End file.
